


Watch the Stars Dance

by IcyPanther



Series: Voltron Road Trip: A Fix-It Fic Journey [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:14:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27685432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPanther/pseuds/IcyPanther
Summary: The Castle of Lions is gone. Coran knew it needed to be done to save the universe, to save his family, and he has no regrets. But the castle was full of memories, of a life gone by, and while not living it was as a part of their family as anyone. And the castle deserves a proper farewell.
Relationships: Allura & Coran (Voltron)
Series: Voltron Road Trip: A Fix-It Fic Journey [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1864606
Comments: 13
Kudos: 44





	Watch the Stars Dance

**Author's Note:**

> **Timeline notes:** set directly after season six, episode seven  
>  **Warning notes:** none
> 
> A sort of companion piece to _[You Are My Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15625668/chapters/57388618)_ as well :)

Coran stood back, hands on his hips, and surveyed the stockpile of all the supplies rescued from the castle neatly organized on the ground outside the Lions.

Well, all except for the apparent hoarding pile Number Five had been accumulating inside the Green Lion and he had requested she and Number Two go through and create an itemized list of items of note that may be useful for general repairs and the like. 

But other than that…

This was it.

This was all that they had managed to save before…

Coran gave a shake of his head.

No.

There was no time for that. He had injured, exhausted Paladins to look after and he was only going to be grateful that all of them were here, alive, and mostly all right when they so so so easily could not have been. 

It was just a ship.

Just his grand-pappy’s lifetime work.

Just Coran’s home since he’d been a wee babe and could not recall any other.

Just the absolute last piece of Altean architecture and history whose halls had been filled with the memories of his and Allura’s people.

Of their loved ones. 

Coran cast his gaze to the small piles that were not food or medical items that had been taken from the castle and thrown aboard the Lions.

Number Two, in grabbing utensils and dinnerware, had grabbed Allura’s juniberry patterned ceramic mug (which Lance had pilfered a bit ago and it warmed Coran’s heart to see him sitting and talking quietly with Allura with his own mug of tea in hand) and Coran’s own favored mug done in orange with a raised image of the castle.

Coran gently plucked it up and ran his thumb over the embossment.

There was a single box left of Coran’s favorite tea blend from Altea that he had been slowly savoring, a pot of it currently sitting next to the fire as he’d needed that comfort this evening and all of them could really do with a nice spot of tea.

He had grabbed a small box of tomes from the library, six titles, of their history, that had been a spur of the moment selection as he’d raced pass the library to the hangars.

And outside of anything personal that Allura had grabbed from her room that she had left aboard the Blue Lion…

That was it.

Coran had been more concerned with making sure Number One was safely ensconced a cryo-pod and programming it for transport while grabbing whatever medical supplies he could from the infirmary and personal objects had not been his priority. 

But now…

Now he was regretting not trying to grab the tapestry of his king and queen that hung in the main hall. Of taking one of the decorative light scones that had some of Altea’s constellations carved into them. Or even a change of clothes, or his favorite slippers in the shape of Altea’s famed hunkledorp. 

He wished he could have visited his favorite spot in the castle — the overlook above the bridge that let him gaze upon all of the universe — or gone down to the engine room he’d changed his first pipe out or to the small, nearly hidden room accessible only by the vent system where the main processor was located and he used to visit all the time as a child.

But those were things. And while not replaceable, not really, they were just things. And the others were memories. And those memories were in his head, in his heart, and he would hold them tight. 

But still…

Coran gave a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping.

It had been home.

And now they had none.

It was something they needed to discuss sooner than later as while Coran knew the plan was to make for Earth in the Lions…

It would not be such a simple thing. They were a party now of nine (ten, if he counted the space wolf), two of whom Coran did not know and quite frankly he could not even say to know Number Four or even Number One at this point and was still reeling a bit from all of those revelations. But Number Four had greeted him warmly, his mother, Krolia, while preoccupied a bit with her son now and Number One, had seemed like a very dependable woman and she had already secured their campsite.

Romelle, the young Altean girl who had accompanied them had introduced herself, had brought the biggest shock to Coran though.

There were more Alteans. A whole colony. _Thousands._

And while it was not something he could focus on right now as his priority had to be his princess and his Paladins, it gave him great hope that perhaps not all of Altean culture was lost. 

And it gave him the strength to turn away from the inventory, pull on a smile, and go prepare himself his own mug of tea.

He settled himself on his own fallen log that he and Krolia had dragged earlier to their campsite, content to watch the younger members of the team.

No, he amended as he watched Allura throw herself forward, nearly pushing Lance off the log, to wrap him up in a hug, as he saw Numbers Two and Five sitting together, sorting abandoned, with Number Five dozing against Number Two’s large shoulder while he fiddled with some gadget in his lap.

Family.

It may have changed quite a bit of late, may now have some new members if they would be so inclined to wish to be included, but this was no mere group fate had brought together.

It was something more.

Coran was incredibly grateful to be a part of it. 

He turned his attention to the flickering flames, the warmth comforting even though this planet was not all that cold. There was something mesmerizing about fire and Coran lost himself to the delightful activity of picking out dancing images in the flames. 

He was still more than aware when Allura settled herself onto the log next to him a number of minutes later and he pulled his eyes away to address his princess.

The closest thing he had to a daughter.

Her eyes were red-rimmed but a smile was on her lips and her gaze was clear and bright and Coran’s heart felt warmed by the sight even moreso than the fire. 

He was warmed even more as one of Allura’s slender hands reached out to land atop his, idly holding his now empty mug on his lap.

“Are you all right, Coran?” she asked quietly. 

“Perfectly peachy, Princess,” he replied just as softly and her lips quirked up at the phrase she had adopted from him much to Alfor’s chagrin as it was too common for a princess to be using, but her expression sobered some a moment later.

“You are truly all right?”

“Truly,” Coran brought his other hand around to place atop Allura’s and squeeze it gently. “And you?”

“I am better now,” she said and it was a surprisingly honest answer for her as even though Allura knew she did not need to with Coran, decorum often prevented her from presenting anything less than a fully polished front. 

And considering all that had happened…

Lotor’s betrayal had been a surprise to them all but none had it hurt more than Allura, who Coran knew had lowered her walls, opened her heart, to the Galran emperor. 

Death may have been the best outcome for him, Coran thought a tad darkly for him but no less truthful, because that man had hurt Allura in a way she should never have had to suffer and Coran would have had more than words and his one-two punch for him. 

“Truly?” Coran asked, peering closer.

“Truly,” Allura promised and Coran did not miss the way her eyes shifted to where Lance was easing himself onto the ground next to Number Two. 

Her gaze returned to Coran. “I am… am feeling sad,” she continued. “And…” her other hand tightened into a fist, “angry. But,” she smoothed her hand out, “I am mostly grateful that we are all here.”

“Me too,” Coran murmured.

“And while we lost no one… we did lose some thing very dear to us,” she continued. “And… and I would like to wish it a proper farewell and thanks.”

Coran’s head jerked up from where he’d been looking at their hands.

“Princess?”

“Our castle,” she said and Coran felt his eyes sting at the declaration as much as the inclusion. The castle had been built for Alfor, for the royal family. And while he had always been like family himself to them, Coran knew his station. But to Allura, in this instance, they were equals. 

“I,” and Coran was surprised to hear his voice so thick and he swallowed to clear it, “I would like that very much. But…” he looked to their food inventory. They were in no danger of starving thankfully and water was plentiful too, but there was nothing fitting in which to toast the departed and they most certainly did not have any candles used for such rituals. 

And to Coran’s surprise a light blush darkened Allura’s cheeks. “I may have procured a small stash of bullarum in the Blue Lion,” she said.

Coran’s eyebrows and moustache rose at the admittance of the favored bubbly, non-alcoholic drink that Alteans both heartily enjoyed and often gifted to other planets. 

“For diplomatic purposes!” she defended although the spots of color gave her away.

“Of course, Princess,” Coran agreed, eyes twinkling. “For I am certain storing them within the Blue Lion with all of that additional movement only makes them more bubbly and delicious for our allies.”

“Of course,” she sniffed, nose in the air. “That is exactly why.” 

Coran chuckled, the action freeing a tightness he didn’t even realize had taken over his chest, and Allura’s soft giggles chimed in a moment later. 

“I shall fetch us some glasses,” Coran said. 

“And I shall meet you with the bullarum… there,” Allura inclined her chin towards the far edge of their campsite where the ground gave way to plummet down a cliff to still waters below. “Three dobashes?”

“Three dobashes,” Coran agreed. 

He gave her hand one last gentle pat and they both withdrew and rose to head to their respective locations. 

Coran knew though that the tall fluted glasses for such toasts had not been in Number Two’s grab in the kitchen and they had nothing else close that should be used for such an occasion.

However…

A quick wash later and Coran was carrying over both of their mugs to the decided upon location. 

And oh.

It was perfect.

The water was so still it was like a mirror to the star-studded sky above and it was looking at a sea of stars, stretching as far as his eye could see.

A far more beautiful sight than the last glimpse of the castle, heading into a crackling, dark magic rift. 

But it had needed to be done to save the universe, to make sure that they all walked away, and as much as Coran would mourn its loss he would not be sorry for it. 

The sound of near silent footsteps a moment later had him turning from the sight to where Allura was holding a bottle of bullarum that she held out to him.

“Would you do the honors?” she asked.

“It would be my pleasure,” Coran smiled.

He handed her the mugs in exchange, watching as Allura looked fondly down upon them and likely thinking along the same lines as he, and a tug later the cork was freed with a sharp _pop_ and a spray of bubbles. Coran liberally filled each mug and then carefully set the bottle on the ground. 

He turned to look out over the cliff, gazing up into the sky where, somewhere in the vast universe whether it be theirs or another’s, his beloved castle lay. 

“Thank you for the memories,” he said softly, lifting his mug.

“Thank you for your protection,” Allura lifted her own.

“Thank you for being our home.”

“And thank you for giving us a future.”

And as one both he and Allura tipped their mugs back.

The bullarum — even at room temperature — was sweet and bubbly and smooth as it went down and Coran savored every sip. 

He then set down his mug and picked up the bottle, stepping up to the very edge of the cliff, Allura joining him.

He held the bottle out as she, as princess, was the highest rank in which to invoke the final farewell, but she put a hand atop its neck and gently pushed it back at him. 

“Please,” she murmured, “this honor belongs to you, Coran.”

Coran did not protest.

Instead he lifted the bottle and poured it over the cliff edge.

This far down they could not hear as it struck the water, but they could see the ripples that sent the reflected stars dancing.

It was beautiful. 

Coran wrapped an arm about Allura’s shoulders and she leaned into the embrace, hair tickling Coran’s chin. 

And together they watched the stars dance and remembered. 

**Author's Note:**

> Fic request of Coran and Allura mourning the castle and part of my fix-it fic mini series. Felt appropriate to share given the current Thanksgiving holiday and being thankful and grateful for what you have and a reminder that home is not a place but its people and even if this year we can't be together in person to celebrate doesn't mean we cannot still come together in hearts and memories ♥ If you enjoyed the fic it would mean a lot to hear from you. Thank you for the support.
> 
> Edit: due to the clear lack of interest in this fix-it fic series, this fic will be the final one and the remaining two will not be posted on AO3 (they will post on my other platform off site). The series has thus been marked as finished.


End file.
